


Fantastic Furniture and Where to Find It

by bluebeholder



Series: When All Else Is Lost, IKEA Still Remains [6]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, IKEA, M/M, Suitcase Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 17:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13979733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/pseuds/bluebeholder
Summary: The Suitcase Family goes to IKEA.It goes exactly as well as you might expect.





	Fantastic Furniture and Where to Find It

**Author's Note:**

> I technically wrote this last summer but posted it as a part of Schrodinger's Stories instead of as its own independent fic. That is being rectified right now because there's *another* IKEA-fic coming down the pipeline (hint: for my other primary fandom), so...I'm re-opening the series.
> 
> Apparently I'm not done yet.

“I didn’t sign up to spend the entire afternoon here,” Percival says.

Queenie squeezes his hand. “Yes, you did! You walked in the doors!”

“Accurate,” Tina says, looking around at the bright blue atrium. “What are we even looking for?”

Jacob grins. “What aren’t we looking for? It’s IKEA, they’ve got everything.”

Newt clears his throat. “Remember, we’re just helping Credence furnish his apartment,” he says.

Percival glances at the kid, following behind Tina with his hands tucked in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. He was kind of a charity case of Tina’s, since she’d pulled him out of a nasty roommate situation and given him a couch to sleep on until he could get his feet under him. It was the summer after his college graduation, and Credence finally had enough money saved up and a steady enough income to have an apartment of his own. “You really don’t have to do this,” Credence says to the floor.

“We want to, though,” Percival says, speaking for all of them. Really, he’ll be paying the lion’s share. Being an attorney has a lot of drawbacks, but Percival considers it a major perk to be able to help his friends out whenever he wants.

Credence gives him a shy look. “Thank you,” he says.

Tina links her arm through Credence’s, pulling him onto the escalator that leads up to the Showroom. “Come on,” she says, “let’s start by finding you a bed.”

“Don’t look so gloomy, Percy,” Jacob says. “It’ll be easy!”

It is not easy.

Somehow, despite the plain yellow arrows pointing them from one department to the next, they are now hopelessly lost. Bed and bath were supposed to be past living and dining, which are tangled messes of chairs and tables and dishware that are hopeless to navigate when Newt and Queenie insist on constantly going off the beaten path to see new things.

“I thought this was going to be a brief trip,” Percival mutters to Tina, as Queenie pulls Credence off to look at what might be a spice rack.

“He doesn’t have a stick of furniture or anything else that isn’t in his suitcase,” Tina says.

Percival sighs. “I know,” he says. “But this could have been done in multiple trips. And we could have picked up a map.”

It’s been three hours since they entered the store, and there’s no sign of bedrooms. No, they’re in the kitchen section now, and Percival isn’t even sure how they got there. It seems as if they’d simply stepped between two shelving units and there are kitchen islands and cabinets and sundries that Percival had never even considered before now.

“Starting to feel a bit like Odysseus,” Jacob says. He examines a rolling pin, experimentally hefting it. “You know–he almost didn’t get home! Only got back because he wanted to come back to Penelope, you know.”

“Well, your Penelope is off hauling my Newt around to look at knife blocks,” Tina says, “so I hope that you have some reason to try to get home!”

Credence, hovering by the stopped cart, looks slightly panicked. Percival leaves Tina and Jacob to discuss the merits of a non-professional baker having a rolling pin and goes to stand with the young man. “All right?”

“Not really,” Credence says quietly. He fidgets with his sleeve. “This is just very…loud.”

It is. There are people flooding past in a strange orderly chaos, children laughing and shrieking, suburban mothers talking on cell phones, excited men shouting about anything under the sun. Percival’s hair is standing on end and he doesn’t even mind crowds. Shy Credence must be about to go out of his mind.

“Tell you what,” Percival says, “looks like the others have got this pretty much handled. You want to go find lunch? IKEA is supposed to have a decent restaurant.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Credence says softly.

Percival smiles at him. “Not a problem,” he says. He sends off a quick text to the group chat, letting them know that he’s taking Credence to find lunch and they’ll meet up in the restaurant, and then guides Credence out of the chaos.

Once they aren’t being diverted by random interest, it’s remarkably easy to navigate the store. They breeze past the displays to break out into a still-crowded but more-orderly cafeteria. After they get food–which looks honestly delicious–Percival locates the quietest possible table for them.

They eat without much small talk. Percival’s not inclined to push, when Credence looks so tired; and the kid doesn’t perk up after he’s eaten. “This is a little bit much,” Credence says, pushing his tray aside and resting his head on the table.

Percival feels a pang of sympathy. It’s easy to forget the age differences in their odd little group of friends, when they’re hanging around Jacob’s apartment on Percival’s days off playing video games and shouting: he’s nearly twenty years older than Credence. “I drove myself here. Do you want to go?”

“No,” Credence says into the table. “I just want to sleep.”

Suddenly, a devious and alarming idea appears in Percival’s head. “…I’ve heard some stories,” he says, “about people who’ve lived in IKEA.”

Credence pops up, wide-eyed. “I’m not moving into this store!”

“Not moving in,” Percival says with a grin. “Just…finding a spot to take a nap.”

There’s a sparkle in Credence’s eyes. “I like that,” he says. “Where do you think we should go? Will the others worry?”

“They’re too busy with shopping and trying to play Tetris with flat-pack furniture,” Percival says. “Besides–if I remember right, there’s plenty of space to sleep in rugs and flooring, which is on the way out anyway.”

“All right,” Credence says.

It takes a bit of searching to find an appropriately hidden corner, but find one they do. There are just rugs heaped everywhere, varying degrees of plush and many out of direct sight where shoppers clearly don’t go, and when they finally find a good pile Credence collapses into it with a groan. “I need this,” he mutters.

Percival looks down at him. “I can keep an eye on things and wait for you to wake up,” he says.

Credence scoots over and pats the rugs next to him. “No,” he says, “you should join me.”

This somehow seems like a bad idea, but Percival sits down anyway. He reclines on the pile and takes a photo of their corner, texting it to the group so that they can be found later.

He’s surprised when Credence snuggles into his side, the tall young man contriving to make himself small. “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping,” Credence says. “You said this was a spot for napping, so.”

Carefully, Percival works his arm around Credence so that he doesn’t break his shoulder holding his arm over his head. “Fine,” he says as Credence plants his head firmly on Percival’s shoulder, “you sleep. I’ll keep an eye out for marauding employees.”

This does not work out quite as well as Percival hoped, either.

The next thing he knows, he’s being awakened by Newt shaking his shoulder while Tina and Jacob laugh helplessly at something on Tina’s phone. Percival shakes himself–and realizes that somehow in his sleep he’s ended up straightforwardly spooning with Credence on the pile of rugs.

“Damn it,” he says.

“No shame, no shame,” Jacob says. He takes out his phone and takes a photo of Percival and Credence.

Newt’s barely suppressing a smirk. “Having a good time?”

“Just fine until you woke us up,” Credence grumbles. He moves and Percival sits up, massaging his aching shoulder. Credence sits up too, running his fingers through his hair. “Are we ready to go?”

Queenie nods, helping Percival to his feet. “Still have to get out, but that should be easy! As long as we don’t lose you two again, or run into that ugly man who looked like a pineapple.”

“The who?” Percival asks.

Tina sticks out her tongue. “Some manager who kept trying to get us to buy stuff we didn’t need. Awful bleach-blond hair.”

“With a name like Grindelwald, he should be starring as the villain in a movie!” Newt says.

This time, it’s fairly easy to get out of IKEA. They pay for all the furniture and finagle it into Newt’s enormous truck, and manage to get it all the way back to Credence’s apartment. Unloading is an absolute nightmare, but they get it done, and suddenly the empty little apartment is full of flat-pack boxes.

“Now,” Percival says, with a certain delight, “comes the really good part.”

“Which is…?” Tina asks.

“Putting it all together.”

“We’re all going to go crazy,” Jacob says.

Newt smiles. “True! But at least we’ll all be going crazy together!”


End file.
